


Chasing Your Heart

by awarrington



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Sex In A Cave, Zine: KiSCon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: Kirk and Spock run for their lives.





	Chasing Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the KiScon 2017 official zine.

 

“Now!” Kirk whispered as soon as the Uraku had turned the corner towards the setting sun, and then disappeared from view. Their large, lumbering bodies were surprisingly nimble.

Spock curled in on himself, and then leapt like a long-jumper from out of the dense foliage.  Hitting the dusty ground, he sprinted across the clearing with Kirk at his side as they ran for their lives.  They both knew if they were caught, they would be killed – shot by the natives’ primitive but deadly weapons.  Spock was unconcerned for himself, but was prepared to do anything to preserve the life of his captain and friend.

As he ran, Spock reflected that this was far from the first time they had found themselves being hotly pursued.  In fact these occurrences were so frequent, they had honed these escapes, working together like a well-oiled machine.  Each time was different, but despite the many variables, the conclusion had always been the same: they had escaped, mostly intact.

On this occasion, there were two variables that made their task more difficult.  The first was that this region of Urak contained rocks that interfered with both communications and the transporter.  The second was the low level of oxygen in the atmosphere, and a temperature that was more typically found in Earth’s equatorial region.  These conditions were far from optimum for a human, even one as fit as Kirk.  Indeed, it was clear from his captain’s labored breathing as they sprinted across the open ground, that the effects of the tri-ox shot McCoy had administered before beam-down had lessened substantially.

As they ran over the uneven terrain, he slowed his pace to match his captain’s diminishing rate.  A glance to his right confirmed that Kirk was exerting himself to the limit of his endurance, his face contorted, red and sweaty, with no wind to cool him down.  For a brief moment Spock felt a pang of concern for this special human, before some shouting in the distance distracted him, indicating the Uraku had realized their error in turning the wrong way.

The commotion distracted Kirk, causing him to stumble, and then fall headlong.  Spock noted that despite Kirk’s depletion, his captain’s training kicked in as he rolled with the momentum of his fall, mitigating any serious injury.  But he’d dropped the Klingon disruptor they had risked their lives to recover.  Spock reached down, and grasping Kirk by his hand, pulled him onto his unsteady feet.  The touch provided him with feedback on Kirk’s condition, finding him close to exhaustion.  Spock held onto his captain’s arm to provide surreptitious support, as he took a moment to inspect him.

Kirk met his concerned gaze, and shrugged out of Spock’s hold to brush himself down.  “I’m fine,” he said, retrieving the disruptor.  “It’s a pity this goddamn thing doesn’t work.”  He glanced towards the dense patch of vegetation which beckoned, no more than a hundred meters ahead of them.  “Nearly there.”

Acutely aware that at any moment, the guards were likely to appear, Spock wanted to offer his friend some assistance.  “Captain—”

Kirk waved his hand weakly.  “I can do it.”

Using sheer force of will, Kirk half ran, half staggered towards the dense brush. Spock remained a step behind him, holding his hand out ready to catch the human should he falter.

The moment they left the clearing and were concealed from their pursuers, Kirk fell gasping to his knees onto a carpet of leaves.  Spock looked on concerned as Kirk clutched his side; it was highly likely the human’s muscles were running out of adequate oxygen to fuel them.  He found himself torn between wanting to help, while not overstepping his bounds.

“We cannot remain here, Captain,” he whispered urgently.  “I estimate the Uraku will be upon us in one minute thirty-seven seconds.”

“Can’t….go….further,” he panted.

Spock dropped to his knees in front of Kirk, who blindly reached out his hand.  It was a sure sign his captain’s oxygen levels were so depleted he was becoming hypoxic.  Spock took the cool hand into his own and clasped it to provide reassurance. Through the contact, he sensed his captain's physical distress.

Kirk looked up, his face red and sweaty, and contorted in pain.  “You go, Spock.  Here, take the disruptor.  Leave—”

“Negative, Captain.  I will transport you.”

Spock let go of Kirk’s hand and stood up.  Placing one arm in the crook of Kirk’s knees and the other around his torso, he easily lifted the human, even though he struggled to get free.

“Put me down,” Kirk demanded through wheezing gasps.

Spock began to trot.

“Commander, I order you—”

“You are being illogical, Captain.  By traveling in this manner, we decrease our odds of being captured by thirty-six percent.”

“It’s undignified.”

Spock ignored him.

Although the towering plants around them created a canopy that blotted out the quickly darkening sky, Spock was still able to make out a well-worn path clear of undergrowth as it meandered around some of the larger trees and shrubs.  Taking that route was logical, since he was less likely to stumble over occasional roots and other obstacles.  The absence of obstruction from foliage would also allow him greater speed, and therefore increase the probability they would extend their distance from their pursuers.

Despite his burden, Spock was able to go at a trot, utilizing a gait that would minimize his captain’s discomfort.  Kirk remained silent, although Spock could hear the human’s lungs continue to labor as he tried to inhale adequate quantities of oxygen.  It was with some relief that the voices chasing them began to recede.

From the chart of the terrain he had viewed prior to this dangerous mission, he knew they were in a densely vegetated gorge, three point four kilometers southeast of their beam-down point.  With a small correction he estimated they would reach the cliffs that lined one side of the valley in five point three minutes.

It was clear from Kirk’s exhaustion he was going to be in no condition to climb up to the top of the canyon.  Therefore, they would have to conceal themselves at the base of it.  Since the rock’s composition was essentially sedimentary, he estimated there was a seventy-four percent chance it would yield fissures large enough for them to conceal themselves in, if not actual caves.  He adjusted his direction, taking them off the pathway, but progress was immediately slowed by the density of the foliage.  Coils of mist caressed the low-lying clumps of vegetation, making the job of picking out a path more difficult.  Added to that, branches began to scratch at their faces and tangle in their hair, but with Kirk in his arms, he was unable to push them out of the way.  He had no choice but to press on, regardless.

When the crepuscular light deepened faster than would be expected, he surmised they must be in proximity to the cliffs, as their mass cast a long shadow, even at night.  When Spock broke out from the vegetation, the towering rock face stood just ahead of them, its grim silhouette providing both a barrier and a refuge.  He drew to a stop at the edge of the slow-running river that had spent eons carving its path deep into the landscape.  Now that the sun had set, the air was a little cooler, but still windless.

“Let me down,” Kirk rasped.

Spock complied, surprised his captain had let him carry him this far.  He set Kirk onto his feet, but when his legs, still shaky from their exertion, threatened to give way, he grabbed Kirk’s arms to steady him.

“Captain—”

“I’m fine, Spock.  Just a bit…weak.”  Spock knew from the way Kirk didn't meet his gaze that it was a difficult admission.  Reluctantly, he let his captain go. Kirk glanced around him, though Spock doubted he could see much in the way of detail. “We’re at the foot of the canyon,” he correctly guessed. “Can you see any caves?”

“Negative.”  When Spock walked over to the river bank to gauge its depth, he found it to be broad and shallow. Interspersed at intervals along its course were large boulders – eroded debris, he surmised, that had fallen from the cliffs.  “I suggest we use the river to cover our tracks.  If we walk along the river bank in an easterly direction for twenty-five meters—”

“And then wade in and backtrack, it’ll hopefully put them off our trail?”

“Indeed.”

“You’re gonna have to help me out here, Spock.  I can’t see a thing.”  He held out his hand.

Spock was certain Kirk was unaware that holding hands was an intimate act for Vulcans.  He gladly took it, noting it was cool and slightly clammy. While the grasp was strong, through the contact he could sense Kirk’s continued exhaustion.

With the sound of the Uraku in the distance, somewhere in the forested area, he led his captain eastwards along the bank and then plunged into the water following the westerly direction they needed to make their way towards the beam-up point.  If their ruse worked, it would increase their odds of escape, he estimated, by twenty-two percent.

The water was unexpectedly warm, likely from a geothermal source, and reached their knees.  Even though they were walking in the direction of the flow, wading through it provided yet another barrier to Kirk’s progress.

Spock clutched his captain’s hand tightly, urging him on as he stumbled over obstacles hidden beneath the water.  The river curved to the right and Spock estimated that another thirty seconds would see them far enough around the bend they would be out of sight when the Uraku reached the point where they had first entered the river. He missed having his tricorder to hand so he could satisfy himself there were no other Uraku, nor any other fauna in the vicinity, that they should be concerned about.

Kirk stopped and let go of Spock's hand. “Did it work?” he asked, his panting clearly audible above the sound of the running water.

Spock's concern for Kirk's physical state increased. “Affirmative, we have made sufficient progress.  However, we should seek shelter.”

Kirk waded forward two steps and immediately tripped, falling to his knees and uttering expletives as he tried to stand through sheer force of will.  With no time to spare, Spock scooped him back up into his arms.  This time, far from struggling as he expected, Kirk wrapped his arm around Spock’s neck, clearly accepting the situation without argument.  Knowing Kirk’s stubbornness, he realized just how exhausted his captain must be.

Spock was able to move at a brisker pace than they had been. As they forged ahead, the voices behind them began to recede until Spock could no longer hear them.  Once he believed they were relatively safe for the time being, he slowed down.  Unable to pick out enough detail of the cliff face to identify a suitable location where they could conceal themselves, he waded towards the opposite bank.  On reaching it, he gently put Kirk down on dry land and climbed out.

Spock stepped forward, holding his arms out.  “I will—”

“No, you won’t!” Kirk said firmly.  “The river was difficult but I can handle walking on dry ground. I’m doing this under my own steam.”

Kirk’s face was etched with pain, but his eyes held a steely determination.

Spock dropped his arms.  However, he was aware Kirk would be unable to see much beyond vague outlines. “Very well, Captain.  If you will allow me to—”

“Lead on.”  Kirk held out his hand, and Spock gladly took it.

The path was not an easy one, as it was strewn with fallen rocks and smaller debris. At this slower pace, Kirk managed to keep up, although his breathing was still labored.

The cliff remained stubbornly sheer, with few crevices to mar its surface.  Hope, Spock knew, was illogical, yet for his captain’s sake, he found himself wishing they would find something suitable to hide in before Kirk pushed himself beyond his own endurance and collapsed.  The Uraku were a primitive, but intelligent species, so it was only a matter of time before they realized their error and would begin to seek them in this direction.

As they proceeded, the rock-face became craggier, but while there were some large fissures, there was nothing that could be termed a cave.  Their search became more urgent as they began to hear voices behind them once again, and alarmingly, also to their left, somewhere across the river.  It was at that moment that Spock spotted a long, deep shadow in the rock three meters above the ground.

“Here, Captain,” he said, and climbed onto a boulder to investigate a crack just above him that was wide enough to squeeze into. Finding it had sufficient depth for at least one of them, he stretched out his hand to pull Kirk up.  If necessary, Spock was prepared to leave Kirk there and continue on until he found another he could use.  He pulled himself up onto the ledge before again reaching out his hand to help Kirk.  A further step up took them into the nook, Spock stepping aside to allow Kirk in.  The voices behind them grew louder as their pursuers closed in.

The fissure was deeper than expected, going back several meters before the narrow channel curled back on itself.  It was ideal, as it would allow them to be entirely concealed from view.  While there was enough room for one, it would be a tight fit for them both.  Spock hesitated.

“Come on, before they see you!” Kirk whispered urgently.  His captain was quite correct, the guards were mere meters away.

Spock slid into the space between his captain and the wall of warm rock.  A moment later, he was face to face with Kirk, their bodies pressed together from chest to knees, so close he could feel Kirk’s heart hammering, and his panting breaths, warm and moist against the sensitive skin of his own lips.  Spock was forced to suppress the arrow of arousal that shot through him from being in such close proximity to the man he desired.  He had long wished to be this close to Jim, but not under these circumstances.

He focused, instead, on his captain’s well-being.  Kirk was clearly overheated from the exertion of their chase.  His body was unnaturally warm, his face, only centimeters from his own, was covered in a sheen of sweat as he attempted to control his breathing, trying to slow it down.

“I’ve tucked the disruptor into my pants – if I drop it, we’ll never be able to pick it up.”

Sudden voices directly outside their hiding place caused them both to stiffen as the Uraku discussed or argued – Spock couldn’t tell which – in a guttural language his universal translator had yet to decipher.

They had no idea how sensitive their hearing was – or their sense of smell for that matter – although neither had appeared to help them in their search for the Starfleet officers.  Regardless, just being so close made them highly vulnerable.

More voices seemed to join the ones already there.  Suddenly a projectile was shot into the crevice, passing the side-channel they were in and hitting the back with a dull thud.  Kirk stiffened and Spock felt the human’s heart hammering against his own chest.  Another projectile, then another followed as more voices joined the group outside.  It went quiet, until a noise, consisting of grunts, alerted them to the fact one of them was trying to squeeze into the crack, but their wide girth made it impossible.

Their voices became quieter.  Spock had no idea how many were there, but it was clear they were hunkering down, waiting.  Obviously, he and Kirk couldn’t stay there indefinitely.  This time, there was no way out for them.

“Fuck,” Kirk whispered, obviously coming to the same conclusion.

“You give voice to my sentiment,” Spock admitted.

Kirk quietly chuckled.  “Is this the no-win scenario I’ve always said there’s no such thing as?”

The question was clearly rhetorical, so Spock remained silent.

Over the next hour, Kirk’s breathing and heart-rate became more normal.  Neither of them spoke, Spock spending the time planning various escape scenarios, only to reject each one.  He was certain his captain was doing the same.  It appeared to be an exercise in futility.

Kirk subtly shifted, drawing Spock’s attention away from their predicament to the matter of his captain's hard body pressed tightly against his own.  The movement was in a direction away from him – it was not by much as there was scant space to do it.  Kirk refused to meet his eye, instead looking at a point over his shoulder as though there was some fascinating rock formation from which he could not avert his gaze.

Spock began to wonder at Kirk’s unusual behavior.  If he had imagined this set of circumstances, he would have expected his captain to be smirking, finding the situation amusing, or even reveling in his first officer’s discomfiture at their proximity.  It would have been a very typical distraction in their dire circumstances, his captain’s odd sense of humor cropping up at the most inappropriate times.  Instead, Kirk seemed to be somewhat disconcerted by the situation.

Then, he felt it.  His captain was sporting a burgeoning erection.

Fascinating.

Kirk wriggled some more in an obvious attempt at concealment, but to no avail – there simply wasn’t room to maneuver.  Indeed, Spock hypothesized, his movements were likely exacerbating it.  Kirk became still, in all likelihood coming to the same conclusion, as a huff of air across Spock’s face signaled Kirk’s frustration or embarrassment – he wasn’t certain which.

Spock recalled the morning of Kirk's disciplinary hearing, and Nyota's description of him as being someone who would sleep with 'anything with a pulse'.  She had been angry at Kirk for, as she believed at the time, using Gaila to help him reprogram the Kobayashi Maru simulator.

That could go some way to explaining Kirk's current predicament, caused by a disconnect between the instinctive reaction of his body, when intimately pressed up against another, and the more rational part of his brain, which acknowledged that the 'other' was his first officer.

However, while Spock was no human psychologist, he had seen for himself how Kirk reacted when he was sexually excited by a being, looking pleased and, as Nyota occasionally described him: 'cocky'.  And his current behavior was most certainly not that.

That gave Spock pause.

He could draw only two conclusions at Kirk's evident mortification.  The first was that Kirk was embarrassed he apparently had no control over his body and 'anything with a pulse' did indeed apply, even to his first officer.  However, it took Spock less than a second to recall several examples where Kirk had found himself the object of attention in situations where such was not conducive to their mission, and he had displayed no difficulty holding the beings concerned at arm's length, despite their amorous advances.

Spock was reminded of the quote by his ancestor that ‘if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution.’

That would suggest there was, in truth, no disconnect between the human's body and brain; Kirk was attracted to him, and had no idea it was reciprocated.  They had both been so successful in hiding it, neither had given any clue away to the other.

Given their current circumstances, trapped by the Uraku, and the Enterprise unable either to communicate with them or to transport them back to the safety of the ship, this was a less-than-optimal condition to be making such a momentous discovery.  In fact, these were likely to be their last moments together.

Watching Kirk closely, it was with relief that Spock allowed his body to react as it had been crying out to do.  As his cock hardened, he moved slightly to press it against Kirk's own erection.  His captain's head snapped up, his eyes holding a question.

Spock answered it by capturing Kirk’s mouth, their lips brushing together, causing a shiver to run through his body at the bittersweet touch.  They pulled apart, their breaths shallow and shaky.

Kirk held Spock’s head in his hands.  “Oh god, Spock,” he gasped.

“Jim.  I need—”

With a groan, Kirk pulled him into a fiery kiss, their tongues passionately sliding together as they frantically explored each other’s mouths for the first time.  Kirk tasted of heat, sweat and mint, and it was everything Spock had imagined and more, his senses overwhelmed.  Kirk slipped his hand down Spock’s body to press his palm against his erection, sending a jolt through his body at the longed-for intimate touch.  Spock hungrily pushed himself into it, desire and desperation driving him.

Thoughts of their predicament evaporated as he gave into his lust, pushing Kirk against the rock, trapping his hand between them.  Kirk pulled it away and together with his other hand, grabbed Spock’s ass, drawing them even more tightly together, their swollen flesh pressed firmly against one another.  They bucked and writhed in a sensual rhythm, Spock plundering Kirk’s mouth between shuddering gasps of pleasure.

“Come on, Spock…” Kirk panted into his mouth.  “So fucking turned on.  I’m—”

Kirk bucked and ground against him, his hips beginning to move in a more erratic rhythm.  Suddenly, Spock could feel his orgasm building like an unstoppable surge, as breathless, urgent gasps caught in his throat.  Against him Kirk’s rhythm changed to short, staccato thrusts, his breaths quick and shallow into Spock’s open mouth, until he stiffened and groaned, long and low.  At the utterly wanton sound Spock felt the rumbling approach building, wave upon wave, until the towering tsunami crested and plunged him into a pulsating flood of pleasure.

Kirk clung limply to him for long minutes as they shared sloppy wet kisses, their hammering hearts and labored lungs slowly recovering.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” he whispered.

Spock tenderly brushed a finger over Jim’s lips.  “I concur.”

The comment earned him a smile.  He reached down for Jim’s hand and affectionately began to brush his fingers over the human’s, stroking up, over, then down. Given their circumstances, the contact was more soothing than arousing.

Kirk looked puzzled.  “I once saw you do that with Uhura,” he said, keeping his voice low, “when you didn’t know I was there.  Is it some kind of Vulcan thing?”

“Vulcan hands are highly sensitive.  They are, in certain circumstances, an erogenous zone.”

Kirk’s eyes widened.  “So all this time we've been holding hands today—”

“It was somewhat distracting,” Spock admitted.

Kirk chuckled.  “Uh…sorry?”

Spock regarded Kirk.  He looked completely drained, the last vestiges of his energy all but depleted.  He was having to hold him up, and considered, retrospectively, that allowing his captain to exert himself further was not the wisest course of action.

He had longed for Kirk to become his lover, but not like this, not as their last act, coming together in a moment of desperation with their future looking short and bleak.  And yet he could not fault these last few moments of shared pleasure.  He would not allow himself to regret it.

They shifted position, Kirk resting his head against Spock’s shoulder.  As they clung to each other, he became aware of a light breeze caressing his right cheek.  That puzzled him, as the opening was to his left and he was certain there was nothing but rock to his right.  Despite what he knew to be true, he put his right hand out anyway, but could only feel the end of the channel in which they were concealed, just as he’d expected.  For the first time, he glanced up and noticed a small patch of dark sky high above them, stars shining faintly like jewels on a black velvet cloth.  He estimated the distance to be at least thirty meters.  He hadn’t noticed it before because there had been no breeze, but since they had become trapped, the wind had evidently picked up.

Now he faced a conundrum.  This could be their escape, but Kirk was in no condition to climb that far, and the channel was too small for Spock to be able to assist him.  Kirk too, was looking up and doubtless was drawing the same conclusion.  He leaned in and placed his lips against Spock's ear.

"Go!"  Spock felt Kirk push the disruptor into his hand.

It wasn't difficult to follow Kirk's logic.  He had the best chance of getting away and reaching a place beyond where the rocks interfered with the ship’s scanners and they would detect him.  He could return with the necessary equipment to rescue Kirk.

If he was still alive.

"That's an order," his captain added.

Spock had always followed Kirk's orders, but despite logic, he balked.

“Jim, I cannot bring myself to leave you,” he quietly admitted.

Kirk looked up again, and then back at Spock.  “What are the chances of me reaching the top?”

“Three point six percent,” he answered automatically.

“Right.  You know you have to go.” Kirk placed his hands on either side of Spock’s face.  “I promise I won’t do anything stupid.  I’ll stay here and wait for you.  They can’t get in – they’re waiting for us to come out.”

The first steps up were the hardest as he had to start by placing his feet either side of Kirk when there was barely room to bend his legs.  Once he got the first toe hold, he was able to shimmy up, his progress speeding up as the channel widened.  It took him sixteen minutes to reach the top and when he got there, he allowed himself one last look down.  Unable to see Kirk in the shadows, he hauled himself over the rim.

Taking a moment to orient himself, Spock began to run in the direction of their beam-down point, which he estimated to be eight kilometers away.  His going was slow, as he could barely see the ground.  The run reminded him of the sporting challenges he had competed in during his time as a cadet at Starfleet Academy.  Coming from a planet with low oxygen levels, he had always fared better in races that involved endurance rather than speed, so he was now in his element.

As he ran, Urak's twin planet began to rise over the horizon, its lumbering hulk reflecting the light of the nearby star across the barren landscape, bathing it in a silvery light.  Low-lying shrubs growing out of the bedrock were dotted sparsely around.  While the light would likely help speed up his escape, he was acutely aware that were the Uraku to come upon him now, there would be nowhere to hide.

He spent the next twenty-two minutes planning Kirk's rescue, rejecting several plans until he alighted on one he believed stood the greatest chance of success.

The craggy rock began to change until he was running on pure sand, his feet sinking with each step.  He had been going only four minutes when he felt the buzz of the transporter beam capture him and the transporter room coalesce around him.

"Where's Jim?" McCoy demanded, running towards the pad.

Spock ignored him and went to the wall-comm.  Every second counted.  "Spock to stores: I require a forty meter length of rope and two jet packs in the transporter room, each with one hour of fuel and calibrated to take account of Urak’s atmosphere.  Stat."

McCoy grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him round.  "He's alive - so where the hell is he?"  The doctor was frowning deeply, concern etched on his face.

"We were beset by the Uraku who imprisoned us.  However, we were able to make our escape and retrieved the disruptor from their main encampment." He handed McCoy the weapon. "But not before the effects of the tri-ox shot had—"

"Why did you leave him behind?" McCoy demanded, clearly angry.

“I had no choice as we were trapped by the Uraku.  I was able to climb out, but the captain could not follow, due to oxygen depletion.”

McCoy pushed himself into Spock’s space, their faces centimeters apart.  “I told you to take your phasers.  You wouldn’t listen!”

“As the captain explained to you, Doctor, Starfleet orders were to reverse a violation of the Prime Directive by the Klingons after they left a disruptor behind on this primitive planet.  Admiral Nogura was clear that we were not to take any technology with us on the mission, as in the event we were captured, our phasers would have compounded the violation.”

“And what now?  You can’t tell me that jetpacks, if they get their hands on them, won’t be another violation.  What’s different this time?”

The transporter doors opening stopped Spock answering, as two crewmen ran in carrying the equipment he had requested.  Grabbing them, he stepped up to the transporter pad and began to put one of the packs on.

“The difference, Doctor, is that the captain is in a perilous position.  If I do not retrieve him, he will die." Spock was perfectly aware he was disobeying a direct order from Starfleet. He didn't care. Kirk had set a precedent when he'd rescued him from the volcano on Nibiru. It was therefore entirely logical to reciprocate. "Mr. Scott, transport me to my last location."

"Sir," the engineer said, frowning. "Do ye not wanna take some security with you?"

"Negative.  I can carry out the rescue more effectively alone."

"Very well, sir," he said reluctantly.

The last thing he saw was the concerned faces of his two colleagues before he was enveloped in a silvery twilight and his feet sunk into soft sand.  After a moment of reorientation, he set off at a run in the direction of the cliff top.  The jetpack would have gotten him there much faster, but with the light of the now half-risen twin planet shining brightly across the barren landscape, he was concerned it would also make him a very visible target.

By the time Spock reached the cliff edge even he was feeling the effects of the thinner atmosphere, his heart pounding fast in his side.  A loud crack, followed by several others, had him drop to the ground, as projectiles whizzed over his head.  The silvery light was bright enough that he was clearly visible to the guards who were still at river level.  How long before they reached the top, now they knew he was there?

It was imperative he didn’t alert them to the fact Jim was still down there, so he lowered the rope and waited for Kirk to pull it.  When he reached the end – at least three meters further than was required, concern for Kirk set in when he didn't tug it.

Had they captured him?  Spock felt a sharp pang at the thought.  He cast around for pebble and finding one, dropped it down, listening for it hitting the ground.  What he heard – a quiet gasp – was reassuring.  He jiggled the rope and this time, felt a definite tug.  Less than a minute later, he felt another two tugs in quick succession.

Pulling Kirk out from his prone position wasn’t easy.  Fortunately, his captain was able to assist by propelling himself up, making the ascent in half the time Spock had.  When Jim’s head appeared over the top of the ledge, Spock was unable to hold back a smile of relief, answered by a grin from Kirk, who reached out towards him.

Gunfire rang out, causing him to abort his move.

“Crap!”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, as they both dropped to lie flat on the ground.  It was clear the guards had scaled the cliff to the top and were coming at them from two directions.  Spock wrestled with the jetpack harness, before helping Kirk with his.

“I suggest an initial vertical direction.”

Kirk looked over his shoulder as the voices got closer.

“Ready when you are.  On my mark.”

Spock watched Kirk as he counted down.  “Three…two…one…go!”

As they simultaneously hit the activate button and ascended, more shouting and shots erupted around them.  Although it was illogical to wish the packs could go faster, he found himself wishing it anyway.  Projectiles whizzed around them, indicating they were still not high enough to be safe.  No sooner had he had that thought than Kirk’s pack was hit and immediately malfunctioned.  Kirk began to drop like a stone.

Spock altered his course and went after him, catching him less than thirty meters from the ground.  There was no time to feel relief as his own pack now labored under the extra weight.  He adjusted his trajectory to go forward rather than up, and fled in the direction he had taken earlier on foot, with Kirk firmly in his arms.  Spock remained focused on their pursuers until he was certain they were safe.  Only then did he finally turn to Kirk. He immediately felt a stab of concern, as from the look of pain etched on his captain’s sweat-drenched face, it was clear Kirk had been hit.

“Jim?” Spock shouted, searching for, and finding the tell-tale patch of blood that covered his uniform shirt.  If Kirk had been Vulcan, he’d likely be dead, as the wound was located where his own heart was beating a frantic rhythm, fueled by adrenaline.

“I’m….”  Kirk stopped, panting against the pain.  “It…hurts…like fuck.”

“We will reach the beam-up point in one point three… Jim!  Jim!”  Kirk had gone limp in his arms.  Spock went for the controls, trying to push his jetpack to go faster, even as he knew the illogic of it, since it was already set to maximum velocity.

Spock counted every moment of the final two minutes of his journey, keeping a close eye on Jim all the while.  Mr. Scott, with his usual precision, beamed them to the transporter room directly from the air.

As they fell in an ungainly heap onto the pad, McCoy whisked out his medical tricorder as he called for an emergency team.  After several seconds of scanning, a look of puzzlement crossed the doctor’s face. He turned the device towards Spock.  “What in tarnation—?”  He never finished his question as two paramedics arrived with a gurney and Kirk was rushed to sickbay.

Spock was left alone in the transporter room, covered in his captain’s blood, and now in command of the ship.  It was clear the doctor had fathomed what had transpired between them from the physical evidence the scanner had detected on them both.  In the great scheme of things, that was an inconsequential matter.  Taking a deep breath to quell his concern for Kirk’s well-being, he focused on matters at hand by comming the bridge to prepare the ship for departure, before heading to his quarters to clean up.

Two hours after their return to the ship, Spock was on the bridge when he received an update from McCoy that Kirk was out of danger and in an artificial coma to expedite his healing. To his irritation, the update included an explicit order not to visit.  Despite the fact Spock outranked the doctor, he did not do so in medical matters, and so he reluctantly complied.

Spock didn’t receive a full medical report on Kirk until after he’d retired to his cabin.  Evidently, the shot that had destroyed his captain’s jetpack had first gone through his torso, damaging his liver in the process.  Despite it being clear his captain’s injuries were not life-threatening, and he was in the hands of a competent physician, Spock felt concern, even though he knew it was illogical.  It was clear to him that the events on Urak had added an additional layer of emotion when it came to the captain that he’d previously successfully suppressed.

Now they were safe aboard the Enterprise, he was uncertain whether Jim would prefer to put what happened on Urak behind them. He may consider it a moment of weakness when their odds of surviving were low.  It was, after all, a very human thing to do, undertaking an atypical activity when you believed the end of your life is near.

With so much on his mind, instead of sleeping, Spock spent the night meditating in order to achieve greater equanimity.

* * *

It was a full day before McCoy called the bridge and gave Spock permission to visit Kirk.  He reached sickbay in under a minute. When he entered, it was the first time he’d seen the doctor since the transporter room the previous day.  McCoy gave him an indecipherable look and jerked his head towards Medbay 2.

The door opened as he approached.  Spock’s heart fluttered in his side at the sight of Jim sitting on a medbed in regulation pajamas, propped up by pillows, padd in hand.  Above his head, the panel showed all his vital signs as being normal.  His face had looked pale but as he looked up, Spock watched with interest as he slowly flushed.  Unable to decipher the nuances of human emotions, he had no idea what that meant.  If it was embarrassment, then that did not bode well.

Spock stood stiffly just inside the door with his hands clasped behind his back. “Captain.  I trust—”

“Spock,” Kirk cut in.  “You don’t have to…” he shook his head and gestured vaguely with his free hand toward him.  “At ease, Spock.”

Spock relaxed his stance, and had to consciously unclasp his hands to hang loosely at his side.  “Captain—”

“—Jim.  Call me Jim, Spock.  I’m off duty, and—”  He looked down and after fidgeting with his padd, put it on the nightstand.

When it became clear Kirk wasn't going to continue, Spock began, “You…” and then coughed to clear his throat.  He had no idea why his mouth had gone dry.  “You are recovered…Jim?”

His captain flopped back against the pillows and looked up at the ceiling.  “Spock, we need to talk.”

Spock felt a pang in his side. He was familiar with that particular line – Nyota had used it when she invited him to her quarters to discuss her decision to break up just before their encounter with Krall.

He wanted to make it easy for Kirk to back out without too much awkwardness.  “Jim, what transpired between us yesterday…  We both believed the odds of surviving—”

Kirk sat up, frowning, shoulders tense, his face stony.  “Are you saying you regret it?”

That was not the reaction Spock had expected.  Kirk looked…pissed.  Spock could not lie, but still unable to fully understand the emotional cues, was hesitant to answer.

“I… do not.”

Jim slumped back against the pillows and closed his eyes, leaving Spock still floundering, still unable to comprehend.  It was only when Jim opened his eyes, looked at him and grinned, he finally felt the tension ease from his body.

“Thank fuck,” Kirk sighed.

Spock walked over to stand beside the bed.  He bent down to kiss Jim, but aborted the move as the monitor showed his captain’s heart rate suddenly surging. The human's vitals were being closely monitored and any pleasurable activity would likely affect them, causing the doctor to come running.  Playing it safe, he held out two fingers.  Kirk seemed to understand and smiling, reached out his own to match, lightly touching them together.  Spock felt an involuntary shiver at the touch, as Kirk’s emotions – love laced with desire – flowed through him.

It was like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> With grateful thanks to the wonderful AnnaKnitsSpock for the beta read with zero notice and warp-speed turnaround. <3 Also please read her brilliant contribution to the KiScon 2017 zine [Rock Bottom](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12138645) (TOS)


End file.
